


Dean Winchester Has New Year's Resolutions

by hug_it_out_boys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Dean, Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Love Confession, M/M, New Year's Resolutions, Top Sam, We're going to say Rowena got rid of the MOC, takes place after 10x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7159283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hug_it_out_boys/pseuds/hug_it_out_boys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds a list of resolutions, Dean makes a confession, wincest (and my need for brotherly smut) ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam's Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm posting this at the wrong time of the year, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Come visit me at [tumblr](http://hug-it-out-boys.tumblr.com/).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds a list in Dean's room and it piques his curiosity. Now, he just needs to get Dean in the right mood to ask him about it.

Dean cursed as his forehead knocked against the open lid of the trunk and he dropped the knife in his hand.  The clattering echo in the bunker’s garage made Sam jump and he automatically took a step toward Dean.

“You alright?” Sam asked, pressing his hand lightly against the back of Dean’s neck.  

His brother shook off the touch and glared over his shoulder.  

“Fine,” he gritted out.  

Sam stepped back and folded his arms across his chest, giving Dean the space he apparently needed.  Dean had been agitated and moody for months now and Sam was trying to be patient as he waited for his brother to work through whatever was getting to him.  Not that there weren’t a million reasons for Dean to feel off kilter.  Their lives were always a mess, but Dean rarely let it keep him down, always looking to the simple pleasures in his life for an anchor of sanity.  

Sam sighed and looked around the garage, wondering if he should offer Dean his help to get the impala packed up.  Another string of swearing erupted from Dean as he shoved and pulled items, trying to get all the hunting supplies in their proper place.  Yeah, not a good time to interrupt.  

After a few more minutes of tense silence filled only with Dean’s expletives and the intermittent clang of heavy items being forced into their designated spots, Dean slammed the trunk closed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Headache?” Sam asked.

Dean gave a short nod and moved to the driver side door.  Sam opened the passenger door and looked up when Dean groaned.

“What is it?”

“I forgot my fucking phone,” Dean said miserably.  "I think I left it in my room.“

"I’ll go get it,” Sam volunteered.

Dean blinked at him for a few moments before giving a small smile of appreciation.

“Thanks.”

Sam hurried through the bunker to Dean’s room, flipping on the light and looking around briefly.  Dean’s phone sat on the nightstand, blinking calmly to let it’s owner know there were missed messages.  Picking it up, Sam unlocked the screen to see if there was anything important.  As he scanned through the missed calls, dismissing them as nothing urgent, his eyes flicked around the nightstand, taking in the pictures Dean had displayed.  Next to the picture of their mother, Dean had placed a photograph of him and Sam, laughing and looking at ease.  Sam smiled to himself and turned to leave, but stopped short when he noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the shelf above the bed.  Dean never left trash lying around.  He practically screamed at Sam when he tracked dirt into the room or left crumbs scattered on the floor.

Curious, Sam tucked Dean’s phone in the pocket of his jacket and grabbed the paper, smoothing it out.  His eyebrows immediately shot up as he read the distinctive scrawl.

For a moment, Sam was gobsmacked by the realization the Dean had made New Year’s resolutions, even going so far as to write them down.  Genuinely intrigued and amused, Sam re-read the list.  He gave a short laugh at the first line and smiled to himself as he read the rest of the items.  When he got to the last line he frowned and wondered what exactly Dean wanted to tell him.  And why had he crossed it out?

Tucking the note into his pocket, Sam rushed back down to the garage and handed Dean his phone as he slid into the passenger seat.  

“Thanks,” Dean told him again, shoving the phone into his own jacket pocket as he pulled out of garage.  

“No problem.”

Sam thumbed the folded piece of paper in his pocket and wondered briefly if he should ask Dean about it.  His curiosity was amped up and his mind shuffled through a myriad of possibilities.  Sam stared out the passenger window, not really seeing any of the scenery as it passed by and only vaguely hearing the rock music Dean had turned on at a low volume.  

Could Dean still be having after-effects from the mark even though they’d managed to get rid of it?  Did he want to give some long apologetic speech, even though Sam had told him over and over again it wasn’t necessary?  Did he want to quit hunting?  Sam scoffed internally at that last idea.  

The rest of the drive went by quickly and in relative silence.  Sam was surprised when they pulled into a motel parking lot and he glanced at his watch only to realize it was nearly midnight.  

Twenty-four hours until the new year.  Sam’s fingers twitched around the paper and he had to force himself not to bring it up as they put their gear away and went to bed.  Sam stared at the ceiling, listening to Dean’s soft snores in the next bed as he tried to get his mind to shut off.

\----------

The next morning, as they made their way to the hunt Garth had told them about, Sam looked over at Dean and tried to gauge his mood. Dean’s thumbs were tapping out a fast beat against the steering wheel as Led Zeppelin played.  His face looked relaxed and an easy smile was on his face.  For a moment, Sam lost himself in how truly beautiful his brother was, something he sometimes forgot in their day-to-day lives.  Caramel freckles scattered across smooth cheeks.  Long eyelashes framing green eyes glinting in the sunlight.  

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, Sam blinked rapidly and ran a hand through his hair.   _When the hell did I start waxing poetic over Dean?_ He wondered.

Sam cleared his throat deliberately and Dean glanced over, his thumbs never faltering in their movements.  

“You okay, Sammy?”  

Sam reached over and lowered the volume on the radio before turning toward Dean.  He draped his arm across the back of the seat and leaned against the door, hoping his posture was more relaxed than he actually felt.  

“What do you want to do tonight,” he asked in the most nonchalant tone he could muster.

“Huh?”  Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion.  "What d'ya mean?“

"It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Is it?”  The crease between Dean’s eyebrows disappeared and Sam noticed a sliver of tension in his brother’s jaw.  

“Yeah,” he answered.  "Thought maybe we could get some beer and watch the ball drop on TV.“

"Oh,” Dean answered.  His expression relaxed minutely and Sam let out a small sigh of relief.  "Yeah, that’d be okay.  Not really in the mood for a bar anyway.“

Sam nodded and turned to look back out the window.  Now he just had to get Dean loosened up and happy enough tonight to ask about the paper he’d found.  

\----------

That night, they stopped to get a case of beer before heading to a motel. Dean raised one eyebrow in surprise when Sam added a fifth of whiskey to their purchase.  

"Tryin’ to get me liquored up for some reason?” Dean asked.  

“Thought you might want something harder than beer,” Sam answered, keeping his expression innocent.  "Want me to put it back?“ 

Dean grinned happily and pulled out his wallet.

"''Course not.”


	2. Dean's Confession

By the time the ball plummeted in Time's Square, Dean was clearly on his way to being drunk. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed, a nearly empty beer bottle clutched in his hand and his body loose and passive. His tolerance for alcohol had dimmed significantly since the mark was gone and Sam wondered if he’d let his brother drink too much.

“Happy New Year, Sammy.” Dean gave a lopsided grin and lifted his bottle, tilting it in a small salute before draining the contents.

Sam shook his head in amusement and tilted his own bottle toward Dean.

“Happy New Year, man.”

Dean lazily lifted the television remote and flicked it off as he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Before he could make an attempt to stand, Sam hesitantly spoke up.

“So,” Sam began.

Dean looked over and gave another smile, this one affectionate and sweet. He was a happy drunk tonight, and Sam thanked his lucky stars for the mood he was being granted.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“Make any resolutions this year?”

Dean’s smile vanished slowly and his face scrunched up for a moment, as though he was trying to work out exactly what Sam had just said, before his shoulders tensed and he looked down at the empty bottle in his hand.

“Nah,” Dean answered. "I’m not much for doing that."

Sam’s heart sank. He was going to have to push the issue and it seemed like his brother was already sobering up.

"Really?” Sam tried to keep his tone even, but flinched when he heard the slight accusation in his own voice.

Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes. _Crap, this isn’t going to go well,_ Sam thought miserably.

“Really,” Dean answered flatly.

Sam swallowed nervously and gave Dean what he hoped was an easygoing smile. Setting his beer on the nightstand, Sam leaned over to the foot of the bed and grabbed his jacket from where he had tossed it earlier. He fished out the folded piece of paper and opened it, smoothing down the edges against his thigh as he turned to sit on the edge of his bed, facing his brother. At this point, being direct was the only way he’d get anything out of Dean.

“I, uh, found this in your room.” Sam tipped the sheet of paper so that Dean could see what he was holding and felt a twinge of guilt when the color drained from his brother’s face.

“What the hell, Sam,” Dean said thickly. He reached out to grab the paper, but Sam yanked it back. "That’s fucking mine. Give it back.“

"I will,” Sam said. "But why did you toss it? And what are you wanting to tell me?“

Dean’s mouth clamped shut and his jaw twitched. Sam recognized what his brother was doing and narrowed his eyes.

"Grow up, Dean. Refusing to talk isn’t going to make me stop asking. We aren’t kids anymore.” As he spoke, a spark of anger grew and his voice rose. "And after everything we’ve gone through in the last year, I’d expect more. No more lies. Being honest and open. That’s what we promised, right?“

A few moments passed with only the sound of wind gusts beating against the motel’s window. When Dean finally let out a slow breath and carefully set his bottle on the nightstand, Sam leaned back, dropping the paper onto the bed. Dean squeezed his hands together nervously in his lap and looked down.  Worry rose up inside of Sam, but he tried not to let it show on his face while he silently prayed that whatever this was, it didn't have to do with the mark.  

"Hey,” Sam said gently, tapping Dean’s ankle once with the edge of his toes. Dean looked up and Sam’s heart clenched at the fear he saw in his brother’s face. "It’s just me, man. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. You know that.“

Dean swallowed and gave a short nod before taking a deep breath as if to steel himself.

"Yeah, well,” Dean began hoarsely, “not so sure this is something you’re gonna want to figure out with me, Sam. In fact, I think you’re probably gonna run screaming for the hills.”

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion and he leaned forward, resting one elbow on his knee as he reached his other hand out to squeeze Dean’s wrist in reassurance.

“That’s not going to happen, Dean. I’ve stuck by you through some pretty scary shit, not the least of which wasn’t that long ago.” _If I didn’t leave when you were a demon, I’m never going to leave,_ was left unspoken.

Dean blinked at Sam slowly and pressed his lips together. Patiently, Sam waited, his hand still circled around the warmth of his brother’s wrist. A familiar feeling that Sam refused to name scratched at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away easily. He’d had a lot of practice at keeping that particular emotion tucked away in the dark recesses of his heart and over the years it had become second nature to ignore it.

“Sam, I, I,” Dean stammered and looked down at where Sam’s hand was as if using it to fortify his courage. Without looking up, he continued. "I have. Uh.  These feelings. That I.  That I shouldn’t have.“

Sam waited a beat and turned the words over in his mind. Dean still hadn’t looked up and Sam gave another small squeeze to his wrist.

"Like, what kind of feelings?” Sam asked gently. A pit of fear was filling his stomach. What if Dean was still having violent urges? What if he was still having to fight a dark shadow of rage left behind by the mark?

“Like, um, attraction. No. More than that. Uh. I’m in love with, with someone I shouldn’t be,” Dean’s words started out choppy and forced but suddenly sped up as he continued, as though he couldn’t be rid of them fast enough. "It’s really messed up and I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time but I just didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to hate me and then I screwed up so much between us already I really didn’t want to throw out the last straw and see you give up on me completely like I know you should.“

Dean looked up and took a deep breath, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he looked to Sam for some sort of reaction.

Sam schooled his features as best he could, trying to remain reassuring as his mind worked over the string of words Dean had let loose. His relief that Dean wasn’t talking about going on a killing rampage any time soon was replaced quickly by dumbfounded bewilderment. Who would Dean be in love with that would make him so afraid to tell Sam? And for a long time? How long?

Sam ran over the possible candidates and came up with nothing. Everyone was either dead or there were no hints that Dean had any romantic feelings for them. Why was Dean so convinced this would be the thing that would drive Sam away after everything they had been through? The feeling he had pushed away only moments before came back insistently, itching like a scar that wasn’t yet healed. He tried to force it away again, but it latched onto his mind and refused to let go. _That can’t be right. It just can’t._

Sam leaned back, letting go of Dean’s wrist. He opened his mouth to ask his brother who it was, to explain what was going on, but nothing came out. He realized that he was afraid. Afraid the answer wouldn’t be what he so desperately wanted. Jealousy rose up inside his stomach and he clenched his fists unconsciously against the bed.

"Sam?” Dean’s eyes were filled with fear and Sam suddenly had the urge to shake his brother, tell him to make sense and get this over with, that he couldn’t stand the idea of Dean professing his love for anyone but him. That he’d barely managed to live through Lisa, he just couldn’t take it again, not with the stoicism he’d managed before.

“Who-” Sam cleared his throat when his voice came out gritty and thick. “Who is it?”

Dean’s expression slowly went from anxious and concerned to ashamed. His gaze dropped to the floor before looking back up into Sam’s eyes.

“You,” Dean whispered. "It’s you, Sam.“

Instantly, Sam’s world seemed to narrow down completely to Dean’s face. The apology and sadness in his eyes, the way he licked his lips nervously, the threat of tears brimming against his soft blonde eyelashes.

When a surprised string of laughter burst out of Sam, Dean’s eyes widened and his lips clamped together in anger.

"This isn’t a joke,” Dean stated flatly.

“I-I know,” Sam gasped out. The surreal astonishment and amazement rushing through Sam’s body seemed to have triggered a fit of giggles that he couldn’t control.   _He loves me_ , Sam thought. _Me._

Dean’s face flushed and he stood, anger clearly written across his face.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Dean growled. "I figured you’d tell me how disgusted you were with me, or just get up and walk out, or even punch me in the face. Didn’t figure you’d laugh at me.“ Dean’s voice trailed off with embarrassment and Sam’s laughter dissolved almost immediately.

Dean turned to move away and Sam jumped up to grab his brother’s arm, his grip tightening when Dean tried to shake him off.

"Dean, wait.”

Dean jerked his arm once more in a futile attempt to escape, his face turned away and shoulders drooping.

“Dean, I said _wait_.”

With no small amount of effort, Sam managed to turn Dean toward him. His brother looked away petulantly, his face still red and pinched.

“Dean, look at me.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t laughing at you, Dean. I was -,” Sam floundered for the right words. Fuck it. If Dean could do this, so could he.

Sam drew in a sharp breath and pulled Dean to him. A feeling of triumph filled him as he saw his brother’s anger give way to sheer surprise just as Sam lowered his head and pressed his lips against Dean’s.

As far as first kisses went, it was pretty horrible.

Dean’s emotional rollercoaster had left him unresponsive and his mouth tightly shut. Sam’s desperation caused him to try too hard, his lips moving clumsily against the stiff line of Dean’s mouth. After a few seconds, Sam moved back, hoping that despite the awkward kiss, he’d gotten his point across.

Dean blinked up at him quickly, his gaze flickering across Sam’s face as he absorbed what had just happened.  Sam gave a shy smile and ran his hands down Dean’s arms, gauging the tension in his brother’s body.

“Uh, was that okay?” Sam asked hesitantly.

His stomach dropped when he was met with silence. Dean’s confusion and shock was obvious and Sam wondered fleetingly if he’d gotten this all wrong.

Then, Dean cleared his throat and lifted both hands to cup Sam’s neck gently. A slow smile spread across his face and Sam let out the breath he'd been holding.

“Yeah, Sammy, that was definitely okay,” Dean answered. "Please tell me it wasn’t just a really thorough apology?“

Sam chuckled and pressed his hands against Dean’s waist, tugging him against his body.

"I think you know me better than that,” Sam said.

Dean hummed in agreement and rubbed his thumbs lightly against the underside of Sam’s jaw. Sam’s breath hitched as he let go of his final grip on the love he’d kept buried for years and tilted his head closer to Dean’s.

“Think we can do a lot better, though,” Sam whispered against Dean’s cheek. He felt his brother shiver against him and his own pulse began to pick up speed.

“Definitely,” Dean whispered back.

Desire raced up Sam’s spine as Dean angled his head and brought his mouth up to meet Sam’s.

The second kiss was pretty awesome.

Dean’s full lips were pliable beneath Sam’s, warm and soft, responding to Sam’s mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Sam moaned and ran his hands up Dean’s back, wanting nothing more then to stay wrapped up in his brother for the rest of his existence. When Dean slid his tongue inside Sam’s mouth, Sam felt a wave of dizziness wash over him and he let himself be carried away by the taste of beer and scent of aftershave. Dean worked his tongue against Sam’s, flicking and massaging it as his hands made their way to Sam’s ass, squeezing and caressing it thoroughly. Before long, Sam was nothing but a tall mess of moans and lust, practically melting into Dean’s arms.

When Dean pulled back for a moment and broke the kiss, Sam groaned in frustration and fisted his hands against the back of his brother’s shirt. Dean laughed softly and pressed one hand against Sam’s chest.

“Guess that’s one resolution down, huh?” Dean asked.

Sam grinned and clumsily pulled his brother toward the bed. He fell back, Dean following with a low grunt. Sam looked up into his brother’s smiling, blissful face and gave him a quick kiss before running his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“And I can think of a lot more to add to that list now.”


	3. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smutty portion, with a bit of fluff thrown in for good measure.

Dean could hardly believe he actually had Sam beneath him.  

He balanced his weight on his elbows and tilted his head back, giving Sam more access to his neck.  Sam’s lips moved across Dean’s Adam’s apple, sucking and licking, before kissing his way down to the hollow of Dean’s throat.  Dean moaned softly and experimentally rolled his hips down against Sam.  The hard line of Sam’s cock through his jeans pressed against his own erection and Dean shuddered.  

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam breathed out against the skin of Dean’s neck.

“We gotta get undressed, Sammy.”

He felt Sam nod against his shoulder and Dean moved up to his knees, straddling Sam’s thighs as he stripped his shirt off and undid his jeans quickly.  He moved away just long enough to pull the rest of his clothes off before turning back to the bed.  His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly.  Sam, despite his gigantor size, was apparently no slouch at stripping in a hurry. Dean’s mouth dried up as he took in the long muscles of his brother’s body stretched out across the bed.  Dean’s cock twitched with anticipation as he suddenly, and understandably, forgot how to walk.  

Sam chuckled and raised one eyebrow.  

“You waiting for something?” Sam asked.

Dean grinned and forced himself into motion, climbing back onto the bed as he leaned over to give Sam a slow kiss.

“Not any more,” Dean answered softly as he pulled back.  

Sam reached up and cradled Dean’s cheek for a moment, his gaze languidly moving over Dean’s face.

“Wish you’d told me sooner,” Sam said, his thumb running lightly against Dean’s cheekbone.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve said something too, y'know.”

“Mmm,” Sam hummed, his lips pressing together thoughtfully.

“And at least I managed to write it down,” Dean teased.

“Yeah. The first two words.  That you crossed out.  And then threw away,” Sam countered.  

Dean rolled his eyes and slid his hand down Sam’s side, savoring the feel of his brother’s warm, smooth skin.  

“Whatever,” Dean snarked absently.  "At least I said it out loud.“

"Can we argue about this later?”

Dean huffed out a laugh and wrapped his hand around Sam’s cock, giving a light stroke.  When Sam groaned in response, Dean grinned and leaned down to place a kiss against his brother’s chest.  

“Definitely,” he answered.  "Right now I just wanna fuck you.“

” _You_ want to fuck _me_?“  

Dean looked up and stilled at the incredulous look on Sam’s face.  It hadn’t occurred to him that Sam would want to top.  Dean was older, so that meant he was the top.  Right?  

Sam raised both eyebrows at Dean’s lack of response and tilted his head. 

"Uh,” Dean began.  "I, uh, guess you can fuck me?  I just thought, you know, that-“

Dean was cut off by Sam’s sharp laughter.  

"Jesus Christ, Dean.  If you don’t want to bottom, just say so.”

“It’s not that,” Dean said indignantly.  

And why did he suddenly feel like _not_ wanting to be the bottom was something to be embarrassed about?  Sam gave him an amused look and Dean glanced down at the large cock in his hand.  Definitely bigger than average.  Way bigger, actually, if Dean was to guess.  He swallowed and looked back up.  

“Dean, it’s okay if-”

“No, I want to,” Dean said.  And he was surprised to realize that he actually meant it.  The idea of feeling Sam inside him was turning him on to no end.  "I just hadn’t thought about it and … “  He trailed off and ran his thumb thoughtfully up the length of Sam’s erection.  

"And?” Sam asked breathlessly.

“And, you ain’t exactly little, Sam,” Dean said.  "And I haven’t ever, you know, with a guy.“

Sam’s amused expression dissolved into one of sympathy.  He reached up and ran one large palm across Dean’s shoulder.

"It’s okay, Dean.  I don’t mind being the bottom.”

But Dean’s mind was made up.  He ignored what Sam said and moved to straddle his brother’s hips.  Looking down at Sam’s handsome face, all angles and expressive lines, he rested both hands on Sam’s chest.

“Please, Sam,” he said simply.

Sam took a moment to search Dean’s face and nodded when he seemed to find what he was looking for.  

Without a word, Sam leaned over the side of the bed and pulled a small bottle of lube from a side pocket on his duffel bag.  Dean watched with growing desire as Sam slicked two of his fingers and tossed the bottle onto the bed.  Sam looked up and smiled reassuringly, his other hand resting on Dean’s hip.  

“You ready?”

“More than.”

Using his elbow as leverage, Sam sat up against the headboard, Dean shuffling along on his knees to keep up with his movements.  With a squeeze to Dean’s hip, Sam reached around and slid his fingers between the cleft of Dean’s ass.  

Dean jerked at the sudden coldness and Sam leaned forward, pressing his lips against one of Dean’s nipples.  He sucked and licked at it softly, distracting Dean enough to relax him as Sam circled his fingers against his hole, slicking it up thoroughly.  When Sam carefully wiggled the tip of one finger inside, Dean dropped his head forward and closed his eyes. Blindly, he moved his hands up to Sam’s shoulders and braced himself, anticipating more probing fingers.  

Sam slid the rest of his finger inside Dean’s body and groaned softly against his chest.  Dean’s eyes flew open as Sam moved to the other nipple, tugging it gingerly between his teeth.  After a few minutes of sliding his slick finger in and out, Sam looked up, his face flush and breath coming in shallow bursts.  

“Ready for more?”  Sam asked hoarsely.

Dean nodded and leaned down impulsively, cupping one hand to the back of Sam’s head as he kissed him deeply.  As Dean worked his tongue in and out of Sam’s mouth, Sam slipped a second finger inside his hole, stretching him open.  Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth and rolled his tongue slowly against his brother’s.  

Sam diligently fucked Dean open with his fingers, his hips thrusting up unconsciously and his erection rubbing against the underside of Dean’s ass.  When Sam’s fingers brushed against Dean’s prostate, Dean broke the kiss and arched back, his body shivering as tingles of pleasure arced through his spine.  

“ _Jesus_ ,” Dean gasped out. 

Sam grinned cockily and repeated the motion.  Dean shuddered and curled forward this time, his forehead pressed against Sam’s shoulder. He was only vaguely aware that his cock was beginning to dribble precome, and that he was pushing his ass back against Sam’s hand desperately as sobs escaped his throat.  He wanted more of Sam inside him.  Wanted what he believed he could never have for so many wasted years.  

Through his haze of lust, Dean slowly became aware of Sam shushing him and talking softly against his temple.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Sam muttered.  "Gonna take care of you, Dean.  I love you.“

Dean wondered briefly if he’d been talking out loud, but lost his train of thought when Sam’s fingers slipped out of him.  

Feeling dazed and boneless, Dean watched Sam reach over to squeeze some lube into his hand.  With sure movements, Sam reached around again, but instead of Dean feeling fingers slipping inside, Sam’s wrist grazed his ass cheek as he slicked his cock liberally with lube.  

Dean’s breath hitched as he remembered.  Sam’s very large cock was going to be inside his ass.  He knew he should probably be worried, or at least a little nervous, but all he felt was an overwhelming longing.  

Sam finished and used the edge of the comforter to wipe the remaining lube from his hand.  He looked up at Dean, their eyes locking, and ran his hands lovingly down the length of Dean’s thighs.  

"Can’t wait to be inside you, Dean,” Sam told him, his voice gentle and full of love.  

Instead of saying anything, Dean smiled and leaned down to give Sam a single soft kiss.  Raising back up, he lifted his hips and shifted, until he could feel the head of Sam’s cock pressing insistently against his hole.  

“Go slow, Dean, okay?”

Dean gave Sam a look that said ‘I’m not a friggin’ moron,’ before reaching back to guide his brother’s cock inside him.  He pushed his hips back slowly, stilling as the head slid inside.  Sam felt even bigger than he looked, and Dean wasn’t even close to taking him all the way.  

Closing his eyes, Dean concentrated on the feel of Sam’s hands massaging his hips soothingly, the sounds of shallow breaths and moans escaping his brother.  Dean lowered himself inch by inch, letting Sam fill and stretch him, break him open and make him feel completely whole. The burn hurt and it all felt uncomfortable, but beneath that, Dean was more turned on than he’d ever been.   _Sammy’s inside me.  Sammy’s where I’ve needed him to be all along._  

Dean lost track of time, and with a long groan, slid down the last inch, taking Sam’s cock to the hilt.  He remained motionless and opened his eyes, needing to see his brother’s face.  

Sam’s eyes were wide and his mouth parted.  Both of them were breathing heavily and Sam’s hands had slid down to cup Dean’s ass at some point.  

“I can’t believe … ” Sam trailed off.  His voice was full of wonder and Dean felt a wave affection run through him.  

“I know,” Dean said softly.  He clenched his hands against Sam’s shoulders and blinked rapidly.   _You do_ not _cry during sex, even if it is with Mr. Sensitive_ , he told himself.

“Are you okay?”  Sam asked.  His eyes were searching Dean’s face once again and Dean smiled.  He rolled his hips experimentally and gasped when he felt Sam’s cock graze his prostate.

“Uh huh.”

Using Sam’s shoulders as leverage, Dean raised his hips, until he could feel only the head of Sam’s cock pressing inside him.  He dropped back down and then moved back up, slowly building a rhythm.  The slick sounds and erotic moans and grunts coming from Sam spurred him on, and before long he had angled his hips perfectly, Sam’s cock reaching his prostate on each downward motion.  

“Fuck me,” Dean gasped out.  " _Please_.“

Obediently, Sam grabbed Dean’s waist and bent his knees before thrusting up.  Dean gave a low scream as Sam slammed inside him, and before long he was only able to hang on to his brother’s shoulders tightly as Sam fucked up into him with quick, deep movements.  

” _Sammy_ , oh my god,“ Dean groaned out.  

"Stroke your cock,” Sam demanded.  "Wanna see you come, been waiting so long.“

Dean reached down and stroked himself, finding a rhythm with Sam’s thrusts.  

A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on both of their bodies, and Dean’s grip on his brother’s shoulder was becoming precarious.  Letting go, Dean leaned back and let himself bounce up and down on Sam’s cock as his brother pounded into him.  Before long, Dean could feel his orgasm tingling beneath his skin. 

"Gonna come now,” Dean gritted out.

In response, Sam clutched his brother’s waist tighter and gasped out Dean’s name.  

Dean came so hard he felt like every muscle in his body was on fire.  He curled forward, immobile and locked into place as come spurted from his cock, hitting his stomach and chest in hot streams.  He heard Sam gasp loudly and felt his brother’s come shoot inside his body just as his muscles began to loosen their hold.  Dean’s ass squeezed and fluttered involuntarily around Sam’s cock and he watched in fascination as his brother shuddered beneath him.

They both collapsed, Sam’s hands falling to the bed and Dean dropping down against Sam’s chest, his head resting against his shoulder.  As the sweat on their skin cooled and Dean became aware of the chill in the room, he sat up and blinked sleepily.  Sam’s eyes remained closed, a content smile gracing his face.  On impulse, Dean leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth.  

“I love you, Sammy,” he whispered.

Sam opened his eyes and his smile widened.

“I love you too, Dean.”

Dean’s heart began to pick up speed again and he wondered exactly when he’d turned into such a sap. _Around midnight_ , he guessed.

“Sam?”

Sam’s eyes had fallen closed once again, his head tilted back awkwardly against the headboard.  

“Yeah?”

“Happy New Year.”


End file.
